


love stuck

by soggywormcircus



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Apotheosis, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Pining, charlotte is really going through it in this one but i PROMISE she's gonna be okay, is this even still a tag in hatchetfield multiverse days, no one look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggywormcircus/pseuds/soggywormcircus
Summary: Charlotte gets sick, and figures some things out in the process.
Relationships: Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	love stuck

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm not really actively writing charted anymore but i still have some fics left to post for this ship. this particular thing i wrote early this year mainly to make my friend sad. enjoy!

Charlotte is at home the first time it happens. She's been preparing dinner for Sam all afternoon; it was the first time in weeks he was coming home on time. 

Now he was finally here, sitting across from Charlotte staring at his plate. 

He's barely said a word to Charlotte, but that's alright. Charlotte is just happy to have him here. 

She's just clearing away the dishes when her phone chimes. 

It's a text from Ted.  _ You free tomorrow? I can get off early if you'd want me to.  _

Charlotte smiles at the phone - and then she freezes for barely any reason. There's nothing wrong, it's just-

She looks up as Sam appears in the door to the kitchen. 'I'm going to bed,' he says. He's not looking at Charlotte. She smiles at him anyway. 'That's alright, sleep well, sweetheart,' she says but Sam is already gone. She leans against the kitchen counter and doesn't look back at her phone until she hears the bedroom door close.

She's just about to have another look at the phone when it happens. 

They're approaching December which is a time where Charlotte tends to get a little sick. This shouldn't be very much of a surprise. Still, in the silence of the empty kitchen, the coughing fit is loud and almost violent. 

It also hurts.

When it's over, Charlotte listens. She isn't even sure for what. The thought that Sam used to check on her when she got sick no matter what crosses her mind very briefly. The apartment stays quiet.

Then Charlotte's phone chimes again. 

It’s Ted. 

_ You could come to my place if Sam is home again.  _

Ted is nervous. It’s something Charlotte has noticed before. He is the kind of person to start biting his nails when he’s not texted back immediately. Charlotte smiles again and finally texts back. 

_ That sounds great. _

She shouldn’t say yes, of course. Because she’s married to a man that she loves. A man that hasn’t properly looked at her in weeks, sure, but that doesn’t make her love him any less. 

She puts away her phone and doesn’t look at it again, even when it chimes another time. 

When she gets into bed, Sam is already asleep. His back is turned to her and there’s barely any warmth radiating for him, but Charlotte can hear his breathing. 

And even if it takes her hours to fall asleep, it’s enough. 

The morning it happens again, Charlotte stares at the screen of her computer and tries to concentrate. She’s been trying to get some work done for half an hour, but there’s a pain right behind her eyes that just won’t go away. She’s a little tired. She thinks about finding Ted and asking him to go on a smoke break with her, but-

She loses her train of thought when a mug is being placed on her desk. She looks up and sees Ted, hands in his pockets. His eyes are fixed on the mug and not on her. ‘It’s getting cold,’ he says, ‘you should be careful not to get sick.’ Charlotte only stares at him.

'You-' 

'Just drink it,' Ted interrupts her. He looks like he is already regretting whatever it is he's doing. 

Charlotte allows herself a smile. There's a strange pull in her lungs that's not exactly painful, but something similar. 'That's very thoughtful, Ted. Thank you.' 

Ted finally grins, and when he says, 'yeah, whatever,' Charlotte is a little relieved, because this is familiar. 

Ted walks back to his cubicle. Charlotte watches him, and then it happens. Her throat gets tight, and she can't breathe. She tries to stay calm, gets up from her desk slowly. And then the pain comes. 

Somehow, she makes it to the bathroom in time. 

When the pain faints and she's able to take in some shaky breaths, she's more confused than anything else. For a few minutes she can't do anything but to stare into the sink and the handful of petals in it. 

She takes one between her fingers and has a long look at it.

It's from an azalea, and it makes no sense. Charlotte's stomach turns. She does her best to ignore it. She throws away the flowers with trembling fingers and splashes some cold water into her face. 

She looks up in the mirror and stops moving for a second. 

There's a picture on their bedroom wall that's Charlotte's favourite picture of herself. It's from the day Sam proposed to her, back when she was barely 22. 

She's smiling widely with all of her teeth, her hair is long and untamed and red, and she's glowing. It reminds her, every time she sees it, of how much she loves Sam.

She looks nothing like that right now. She's pale, she looks tired. Even her hair isn't as bright anymore. 

She's gotten older, sure. But there's also something else.

Like the flowers she just threw away. Or the fact that she can barely sleep anymore, unless it's in someone else's bed. Or the fact that her husband hasn't touched her in several months. 

She thinks about visiting him sometimes, when he's working late. She thinks about bringing him some food, chatting with his coworkers and giving him a small kiss on the cheek before she leaves again. 

She never does. She's too scared that he won't be there, that he isn't actually working late but doing something entirely different. 

So she stays at home until she feels like the walls are closing in. And then she calls Ted. 

She used to invite him over but she doesn't anymore. The look of Ted in her and Sam's apartment, in her and Sam's bed, made her nauseous. 

So she goes to Ted's apartment instead when it's possible. She feels like a monster every time she leaves her home and locks the door behind her.

But not when she's with Ted. Never when she's with Ted. 

Charlotte braces herself, wipes her mouth with her sleeve. There's nothing to indicate that she just vomited flower petals into the sink. 

She wouldn't believe it herself, if it wasn't for the burning in her throat that hasn't gone away yet. 

She walks back to her desk and there's no one there to ask any questions. 

Charlotte leans back in her chair and drinks the tea Ted made. 

It's perfect. But the burning in her throat doesn't go away. 

Things continue as usual for Charlotte. She goes to work, she's civil and nice to Paul and Bill, she sometimes has lunch with Melissa. She waits for Sam to come home, and he doesn't. 

She spends her time with Ted. 

There's a constant itch in her chest, and sometimes she coughs up the prettiest petals. It was azalea for a while. Now it's peony. Charlotte can't do anything but to catch her breath afterwards, and stare. She doesn't understand anything. The only thing she does understand is that it hurts. 

No one notices. Sometimes Charlotte sits in a coffee shop while Melissa is talking about her girlfriend and she thinks about telling her. There are moments she almost blurts it out, like a fool. 

But she doesn't. Because this isn't bad and she's sure it will go away and she will get better soon. 

She does her best to keep quiet. Wether it happens at work or at home, she doesn't allow herself any noise. And it works. Charlotte throws away the flowers and no one notices. 

Well. Almost no one. 

'Are you okay?', Ted asks between two drags on a cigarette. 

He sits next to the open window to blow the smoke out. Charlotte watches him from the bed. 

There's light rain falling outside, and some of the drops fall on Ted's head and get caught in his hair. He's looking out the window into the night. 

He's beautiful, Charlotte thinks. She doesn't say it out loud.

Instead she says, 'Yes, of course.' 

She fumbles around with the blanket and when she looks up again, Ted is looking right at her. ‘Are you sure? You don’t seem okay.’ 

Charlotte doesn’t smile at him. It’s become a little harder, to simply smile at people and make it believable. She clears her throat; it feels tight. ‘Don’t worry, Ted.’  _ You’re not doing anything wrong,  _ she wants to say but that might not even be what he’s worried about. 

He’s been asking about Sam a lot, lately. Charlotte is vague about it every time. She never says,  _ why would you ask me this. _

‘If you say so.’ Ted doesn’t take his eyes of Charlotte. Her throat is burning again. She ignores it. 

Ted is looking at her like he’s waiting for her to say something. She pulls the blanket further up towards her and says, ‘aren’t you tired?’

Ted smiles at that. It’s very easy, making him smile. 

Charlotte thinks maybe she should do it more often. She dismisses that thought quickly. Why would she? That’s not the kind of relationship she and Ted have. 

She still feels a little better when Ted puts out his cigarette and closes the window. 

She isn’t sure if the burn in her throat gets better or if it fades. She simply lets Ted wrap his arms around her and buries her face in his neck. 

When she lies here like this and listens to Ted falling asleep, she thinks that things must be fine. She can easily keep going like this until it goes away. Because it will. She knows it will. It has to. 

It doesn't. 

Charlotte has trouble sleeping through the nights when Sam is there. It keeps hurting, and more than once, she locks herself in the bathroom and fills the sink with flowers. 

When it first happened, Charlotte thought it was pretty, in a way. Haunting and painful and terrifying but also pretty. 

Now she just thinks it's disgusting. 

During those nights, she hopes with all her heart that Sam will hear her. That he's going to knock on the door, ask if there's anything wrong with the soft voice she used to hear every day before- 

She doesn't even remember what it sounds like. Eventually, she gives up the hope, and if the flowers make her cry, she doesn't make any noise. 

Tonight, it hurts much more than usual. When Charlotte doubles over the sink and gags, it's so loud that Sam simply must hear her. 

But once it's over, there's nothing in the apartment but silence.

Charlotte looks down into the sink and swallows. 

There's no petals in there. Instead, there's dozens of tiny, whole blossoms. 

They're roses. And Charlotte thinks they might be yellow, but it's hard to tell.

Because they're stained with blood. 

Charlotte reaches for one of them and picks it up. She stares at it with bewilderment. She pulls off one of the petals. Somewhere right behind her ribs, it hurts. It hurts so much she almost drops the flower. 

_ He loves me, he loves me not,  _ she thinks for no reason at all, and then she laughs. She's standing in the bathroom, staring at a flower that seems to have grown inside her that's stained with her own blood, and she laughs. It hurts in her throat but she can't stop. 

She must be going crazy. 

She plucks off every single petal from the flower and it hurts more every time. Once she's cleaned everything up, she goes back to bed. Somehow, it's colder here than it was in the bathroom. 

She takes her phone from the nightstand. The brightness is already on the lowest setting. 

She never would have expected to be googling symptoms in secret with her husband sleeping next to her and the taste of blood in her mouth. 

But she finds exactly what she's looking for and for the first time in weeks, she finally,  _ finally _ understands. 

_ He loves me, he loves me not. _

She loves Sam. Loves him very dearly. 

But he doesn't love her. Not anymore. 

When her throat gets tight this time, it's not flowers but simply tears. 

Charlotte can't help but feel like the world has ended for a few days, even though everything continues the way it always does. The flowers become part of her routine, she almost gets used to them. 

She sees Sam less and less over the next couple weeks. He's always working late, sometimes well into the night, sometimes the entire night. Charlotte has ideas about what working late could actually mean but she doesn't ask and she doesn't think about it either. 

When Sam works through the night, Charlotte sometimes invites Ted over to her place. 

Charlotte expects the pain to fade since she rarely sees Sam anymore. Instead it gets worse. 

Charlotte tells herself that this makes sense. How could she deserve something else when not even her own husband could love her anymore? She's almost relieved, sometimes, simply because she understands. It's not as easy to be relieved, though, when she's lying next to Ted and presses her hand on her mouth to not let any sobs escape her. 

Sleeping next to Ted is very different from sleeping next to Sam. While Sam is a passive presence, Ted is undoubtedly  _ there _ in every meaning of the word. Sam always sleeps curled up at the edge of the bed. Ted somehow manages to sprawl in every single corner of the bed at once. 

And Sam always keeps his hands to himself while Ted's are always on her in one way or another. 

Ted is also a light sleeper, and noise tends to wake him up easily. 

He'll shift a little closer to her when he does. He'll mutter 'are you okay?' into her hair lowly. Sometimes Charlotte manages to say yes. Sometimes she can only nod. Sometimes she pretends to be asleep. 

Sometimes she has to fight the urge to scream the truth out at the top of her lungs. 

Ted will always put his arms around her and pull her closer. He'll press a kiss behind her ear. Hearing his breathing makes it easier for Charlotte to fall asleep afterwards. 

Sometimes, very rarely, Charlotte can't fight the sobs. She tries to keep them as quiet as possible but they still come and of course they wake up Ted. 

When this happens, Ted doesn't ask a single question. He simply holds onto Charlotte very tightly and runs his fingers through her hair until her breathing evens out.

These nights are the only moments Charlotte falls asleep before Ted. 

Charlotte keeps dreading the day Ted is going to ask her about these nights but he never does. He just looks at her like he expects her to say something. Or maybe like he's hoping. 

Charlotte thinks about telling him. She thinks about it a lot, simply because she thinks about Ted a lot. 

She wonders what he would say. He'd probably simply tell her to leave Sam, like he always does. 

Sometimes Charlotte thinks maybe he's right. 

But he isn't. Because no matter if Sam loves her or not, she's his wife. And she'll stay with him for the rest of her life. 

The only thing that's different now is that that might be a shorter amount of time than usually expected. 

The few nights Sam comes home to sleep, Charlotte stays up the entire night. She lies awake and stares at the ceiling. Her chest hurts and she wishes she was somewhere else instead. 

Anywhere else. 

She listens to Sam's breathing. She wonders how it's possible for two people to be this far away from each other when they are so close. 

_ I love you,  _ Charlotte thinks but she doesn't dare break the silence. Even though Sam wouldn't hear her anyway.  _ I love you and I'm being punished for it. _ Her breathing is shaky; she's digging her fingernails into her skin. It's no use. 

_ I love you and I have flowers growing inside me.  _ She feels her throat seize up and she presses a hand to her mouth so Sam can't hear the wheezing sound of her breathing. She sounds like a broken machine. 

She hates it. 

_ I love you,  _ Charlotte thinks,  _ and I am in so much pain.  _

_ And you don't even notice.  _

There are no tears coming that night and Charlotte doesn't let any flowers escape her mouth. It hurts very much. 

The next morning Sam is already gone and she spits thorns into the sink. 

Charlotte tells Ted about hers and Sam's anniversary. They've been married for fifteen years now. Charlotte has been terminally ill for six months of it. 

Sam still hasn't noticed. 

But that's alright, because as she's telling Ted, they're going to go out for dinner for their anniversary. Charlotte is looking forward to it. Charlotte thinks it might help. 

Charlotte isn't even surprised when Sam calls her in the late afternoon and tells her he can't make it. 

Charlotte says yes, and of course, and I love you and when Sam hangs up she walks over to the kitchen cupboard perfectly calm, takes one of the glasses, and throws it against the wall. It shatters into a thousand pieces. 

Charlotte doesn't feel better. She barely feels anything. It only hurts. 

She's just cleared away the shards when her phone starts ringing. She doesn't plan to answer but then she has a look at the screen.

It's Ted. 

'Hi,' she says when she picks up. Her voice is barely trembling at all. It's just a little hoarse. 

'Hey,' he says breathlessly, 'look, ignore me if you're on your way to your dinner, but-' 

'Yes, ' Charlotte says. 'I'll come over. Right now?' 

'Well,' Ted says, and then nothing for half a minute. Then, he asks, 'how soon can you be here?' 

Charlotte can be there in twenty minutes. 

She thinks that she shouldn't. She's waiting in front of a traffic light and she thinks that she's an awful wife, that she's betraying her husband’s trust. 

But Ted's company is… 

It's easy. It's familiar. It's nice. 

Charlotte has one single look at Ted in the office and her day is a little brighter. Sometimes he brings her coffee and it'll be more refreshing than any coffee she could get herself. Sometimes she gets him his beloved chai iced tea and Ted will smile at her in a way that he never smiles at anyone, ever. 

Sometimes he'll kiss her in a way that's not casual at all and Charlotte thinks-

She shouldn't spend tonight with Ted. But she  _ wants _ to. 

She can tell that something is different as soon as she knocks on his door. Then Ted opens and he looks rather nervous and Charlotte asks, ‘Are you cooking something?’

Ted looks a little sheepish. He’s trying to hide it, and he’s probably good at it, too. But Charlotte can tell anyway. 

‘Listen,’ he says, ‘this might have been a mistake and a really bad idea, but-’ 

Charlotte walks past him and into his living room. 

‘Oh,’ she says. 

His dinner table is fully set, with a steaming meal and two plates. 

Somewhere, something in Charlotte’s chest pulls. It doesn’t hurt. It just pulls. 

‘Are you expecting someone else?’, Charlotte asks. She’s not sure why. Maybe she wants to give Ted a chance to back out. An excuse to not get her hopes up. 

‘Just you.’ Ted has followed her and is now behind her. Charlotte turns around to him. He grins carefully, and looks away from Charlotte. ‘I thought it was pretty likely that Sam was gonna cancel on you, and so I wanted- Oh, fuck,’ he adds instead of an explanation when Charlotte throws herself into his arms. Now, it really hurts, right where she assumes the flowers grow. But she does her best to ignore it. 

‘Thank you,’ she says. Her voice is wavering a little but Ted ignores it. He just grins and says, ‘Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even tried the food.’

The food is amazing. Charlotte doesn’t expect anything else. 

She has a look at Ted when they’re eating, and for the first time since she realised what’s happening to her, she considers it. 

She knows that a surgery is an option. She has dismissed it from the start; doing it might safe her life, but it would kill the love she has for Sam. She didn’t want to lose that. 

She’s not so sure now. Because the way Ted looks at her- 

She can’t remember the last time anyone did something this nice for her. 

‘Why did you do this?’, she asks later. They’re just clearing away the table. Ted wasn’t gonna let her help, but she insisted. 

‘I don’t know,’ Ted says. It sounds like he’s lying. ‘I’m sorry if this was inappropriate or whatever, I just thought you deserved a proper dinner. Well,’ he chuckles, ‘more or less proper.’ 

Charlotte just stares at Ted. She tries to smile, she really does. ‘You thought I deserved a proper dinner?’ 

‘Yeah, goddamnit, you know,’ Ted sighs, ‘since Sam is constantly standing you up, and that’s really fucking unfair because-’

Charlotte almost feels bad about how she keeps interrupting him when he's trying to explain himself. But judging by the noise he makes when she pushes him against the wall to kiss him, he doesn't mind very much. 

Every touch and every kiss Charlotte gives or receives that night hurts. Some a little more, some a little less. Charlotte assumes it's her punishment for betraying the one she's supposed to be with instead of Ted, the one she loves. 

It hurts and it keeps hurting, but Charlotte doesn't let go. Even afterwards, when Ted has fallen asleep in her arms and the flowers itch in the back of her throat, all she does is swallow them down and kiss Ted's forehead. 

She doesn't let them ruin this moment.

It's a nice one. Ted tends to look a little different when he's asleep. There's no one to scowl at, no one to tease and no one to prove absolute indifference to. 

Charlotte would like to think that Ted doesn't feel like he has to prove these things to her, but she knows that's probably asking for too much. And that's fine. Charlotte just watches Ted's peaceful face right now. She'll savour every moment and think of it later, when Ted is at work and making a disgruntled face at his computer screen and his coworkers again. 

Charlotte runs a hand through Ted's hair. She's sure the smile on his face is just her imagination but it brings one to her face anyway. It hurts, to smile. And Charlotte has no real reason to. But that's just the effect that Ted can have on her. 

Charlotte doesn't fall asleep that night. Her mind is racing with questions she's asked before but never dared to answer. 

She shouldn't even consider this. She should simply close her eyes and let time tell if she's worthy of Sam's love or not. And well, if it turns out she isn't, she should just die in silence. 

But Ted doesn't do anything in silence. Even now he's snoring, just a tiny bit. 

It's so endearing that it burns between Charlotte's ribs. 

Charlotte looks at her hand on Ted's shoulder. And the ring around her finger. She used to look at it and feel incredibly lucky. Blessed, even. Now, she's not sure what the feeling the sight gives her is. 

Guilt, maybe but there's also something else. Like the feeling of watching all your coworkers leave on a friday night, and still being stuck to your desk. Like the feeling of watching the first snow fall knowing it's going to melt away before you can enjoy it. 

It's silly, of course. She isn't missing out on anything because she's married to Sam. 

Except maybe some mornings with Ted that they have so rarely. When they make breakfast and he makes her laugh and Charlotte can hardly believe it. 

Except maybe the warmth of his apartment, of his bed and of his arms.

Except maybe there's the fact that she's sick, and that she's going to die. 

Ted stirs, and Charlotte holds her breath. 'What time is it?', he mutters. He barely gets his eyes open. He squints at her. And Charlotte, who's known Ted for quite some time now and has seen a lot of his faces, still feels her stomach flip at the sight. 

She runs a finger over Ted's eyebrow. 'It's late,' she says. 'It's probably time for me to go, Ted.' 

'Mmh, okay,' Ted hums, and then he opens his eyes properly. 'Shit, right,' he says, 'sorry.' 

He sits up. He looks really tired. There's some of that peaceful look on his face that Charlotte has never seen him like this when he's awake. She's biting back a smile until she isn't. 

'What’re you smiling about?', Ted asks when Charlotte is in the doorway just about to leave. 

Charlotte only smiles wider. 'Nothing, nothing. Thank you, Ted. Really. This was very special.' She looks at him, trying to stay awake in the middle of his own doorway. She hugs him tightly, and it's way too sweet. 

'Hey, it's no problem, alright?', Ted says quietly. 'Thank you,' Charlotte says again. Her voice with wavering a little. 

When she breaks the hug and kisses Ted, it hurts very much. It's also too soft, and too sweet. Charlotte can feel her insides twisting. But she also feels the fluttering. 

The feeling is very strange, and maybe more than Charlotte can handle. But when Ted pulls away, he's smiling.

'Make it home safe,' he says, and yawns. It's absolutely adorable. Charlotte chuckles. 'Go to sleep.' 

She makes it home just in time to step into her bathroom and vomit into the sink. It hurts a lot, and it takes a long time until Charlotte can catch her breath again. It takes an even longer time for her to stop crying. She's pressing her hand to her mouth again and when she pulls away, it's stained with blood. 

Charlotte cleans up and goes to bed and stares at the ceiling until the sun goes up. 

Then, she sits on the edge of her bed and stares into nothing. Sam hasn't been back all night. 

Charlotte gets up and walks over to her phone like she's in a trance. She doesn't even think about it when she's dialing and puts on her nicest on-the-phone smile. 

When she hangs up, she has an appointment for the surgery. She tries her best to feel awful about it. But afterwards, she goes to sleep and actually wakes up feeling a little refreshed. 

The next day at work, she's already unsure about her decision again. 

Shouldn't she be a good wife? Should she really actively sabotage her relationship with her husband? 

Is there even anything left to be sabotaged? 

The insides of her mouth tastes like blood. Ted walks by her cubicle and Charlotte smiles at him. 

No. This has to be the right decision. If she can't do this for herself, she can do it for Ted. Because he deserves it. 

Things barely get better, after that. The symptoms don’t go away. If anything, things get worse. With every day that goes by, Charlotte finds it more difficult to hide it from Ted. 

Sam still hasn’t noticed anything. 

It’s only a few days now until the surgery. Charlotte keeps getting terrified of the thought. She’s not sure what’s going to happen afterwards. She can’t imagine losing her feelings for Sam forever. Is she going to leave him? Will it even make a difference, for Sam? 

And what would Ted say? 

Charlotte is never going to tell him, of course. He’s already to worried about her, keeps asking her too often if she’s alright. And it’s getting harder to lie to him, to smile. 

But that doesn’t matter. Because soon she won’t have to lie anymore. 

And she doesn’t even dare think this, but maybe, when she can finally let go of Sam and her love for him, maybe she can learn to love Ted. 

She’s sure he wouldn’t want her to. But there are moments, when she’s alone in the apartment and her phone rings and she doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s him, when she simply doesn’t care. 

None of these thoughts matter, ultimately. Because right now, something very strange happens. 

Something Charlotte will later wonder why she didn’t expect it. 

She’s on her way to the coffee shop. Mainly she needs a break from all the noise in the office. She also hopes some fresh February air will be better for her lungs (she doesn’t want to know what they must look like at this point. But it’s not something for her to worry about. Because she’s going to be cured in just a short while). 

And maybe she wants to get Ted something nice, to thank him for all of the things he probably doesn’t even know he’s doing for her. 

She’s just about to cross the road to the coffee shop when she sees her husband. He has his squad car parked right in front of Beanie’s. He’s leaning against it, arms crossed. He’s not wearing his shades. He’s talking to a woman. 

She’s wearing the Beanie’s uniform but Charlotte doesn’t think she’s seen her before. 

She’s really pretty. She’s young. She doesn’t look like Charlotte at all. 

Charlotte can’t take her eyes off Sam. His open body language, and most importantly the way he’s looking at her. 

Charlotte knows that look. She used to know it better than she does now. This past few months, it has been the way Charlotte has wished and pleaded for Sam to look at her again. 

It’s the look he has on their wedding pictures. 

The two of them are only talking. Sam doesn’t kiss her, he doesn’t even touch her. And Charlotte is sure there’s no declaration of love happening between them.    
But that’s not necessary at all. Charlotte understands perfectly. 

She’s standing right there on the sidewalk and waits for the pain to come. She waits for the flowers. She’s trying to brace herself because she is in public and she shouldn’t make a scene. 

But nothing happens. The woman gives Sam a cup of to-go coffee and he climbs back into his car. He doesn’t kiss her. She waves when he drives off and then goes back inside. 

Charlotte watches all of this and nothing hurts. There’s not even an itch. Just nothing. 

Why does Charlotte not feel anything? Because she deserves this? Because she knew this already?

Charlotte can’t be suddenly cured. So why doesn’t it hurt to see Sam with another woman when it would usually already hurt to just have him look at Charlotte? Charlotte doesn’t understand. 

At least not for now. 

She walks into the coffee shop and smiles at the woman behind the counter. She expects to feel some kind of resentment for her, but there is none. She gets her coffee and Ted’s chai iced tea. And she walks back to the office. 

She spends the rest of her shift staring at the computer screen. 

She finally understands what’s going on the next morning. She’s at work again. She looks up from her screen when she hears a sweet laugh. 

It’s Melissa, on the other side of the room. She’s laughing at something Ted has said. He’s grinning at her. He has his arms crossed before his chest. He’s leaning towards her. There’s a loose strand of hair falling right between his eyes. 

He looks very pretty. 

Charlotte feels a stabbing pain in her chest and she can’t breathe. There’s a cramp in her wrist that makes her see spots. 

She bites down on her knuckles and pushes up the sleeve of her sweater. A shiver runs down her spine. There’s a flower growing out of her wrist. 

It’s broken through the skin, and it’s bleeding. Charlotte doesn’t dare pull it out. 

It’s tiny, and barely recognisable, but it’s a tulip. It’s red. Or maybe that’s just her blood. 

So Charlotte is still sick. But she doesn’t understand, why-

Then, Ted laughs. And time stops. 

It’s a nice laugh. It’s also not a sound Charlotte hears very often. 

But that’s hardly a good reason for how much it hurts to hear it. Her throat closes up completely. Another tulip breaks through the skin. Charlotte looks at Ted’s smile and the tiny wrinkles around his eyes and it hurts  _ so _ much and Charlotte doesn’t understand why it would hurt this much to see Ted-

Oh. 

_ Oh.  _

Now, Charlotte finally understands. 

Charlotte jumps up from her chair. She doesn’t look at Ted. She leaves the room. 

She doesn’t dare take another breath until she’s on the roof. She takes out her phone and dials. She smiles politely, says  _ hello _ , and  _ yes _ , and  _ I would like to cancel  _ and  _ yes, everything is fine _ and  _ thank you _ and  _ have a nice day.  _

She manages to cancel the appointment and hang up before the tears come. 

She closes her eyes and sinks to her knees. Her hand is pressed to her mouth again. She’s completely alone. There’s no one that could possibly hear her from up here. Why is she still so scared of making any noise? Charlotte hates it. 

She stays on the roof until she’s shaking from the cold and not from the sobs anymore. 

Pulling out the flowers hurts very much but Charlotte does it anyway. Her legs can barely carry her anymore when she makes her way back down to continue her shift. 

Charlotte is going to die. She's sure of that now, and it's almost a relief, to understand. Because she doesn't love Sam, she loves Ted and this is going to actually kill her. 

Ted wants something casual. What's more casual than a married woman? Charlotte is sure that if she was anything else, she would lose her appeal. 

Even if sometimes, she dares to think that maybe Ted would tell her yes if she asked him. 

But if he would, why would Charlotte be this sick? 

So Charlotte lets the symptoms get worse and doesn't wonder anymore what Sam would say if he noticed. She looks at Ted when his eyes are elsewhere and she waits until this kills her. 

Once again, it's no one else than Ted who ruins her plans. Charlotte wouldn't mind to simply lay down one night and die in her sleep. Maybe even with Ted by her side - even though it does hurt to be touched by him, it's the nicest thing Charlotte can imagine. 

Ted would probably hate it. He seems like the kind of person to want to go out with a bang. To want all the eyes on him in his last moments. 

But not Charlotte. She has different priorities. 

'Sam isn't home for the whole weekend,' Charlotte says this Thursday. Ted is in the break room staring at his phone. He looks up when Charlotte sits down across from him. He raises his eyebrows. 'You sure you want me to come over? I thought maybe you'd want to take the couple days of quiet.' 

Charlotte frowns. 'What do you mean?' 

'Nothing, it's just-' Ted clears his throat. He's put his phone away. 'You just don't look too good. Like you're a little under the weather, somehow.' 

Charlotte nods slowly, then she starts to get up. 'If you don't want to come over-' 

'No, Charlotte, come on.' Ted smiles. That hurts too, these days. Much more than it used to. 

Which means the main reason Charlotte sits back down is because her legs are giving in. 

'You know that's not it.' His foot nudges hers under the table for a second. Charlotte fights a smile. ‘Course I want to come over. I just wonder-' He hesitates. Charlotte holds her breath. 'I just wonder if you're taking care of yourself enough.' 

In this moment, Charlotte feels very bitter. All she wants right now is to reach out for Ted without it hurting. She wants to hold onto him without anything growing in her lungs, and she wants to kiss him without having to await a slow and painful death. 

But she can't, so all she does is look away. 'There's no need. I'm alright Ted, you don't have to worry.' 

Ted doesn't say,  _ I don't worry _ . He also doesn't seem to believe her. 

He doesn't say  _ If you say so.  _ He's just frowning at her. Charlotte takes his hand into hers and squeezes. It hurts a lot. 'Please come over. I'd like to have you home.' 

She hasn't even finished the sentence and can already taste the blood. She swallows it and Ted doesn't notice. He just stares at her. 

Then, very slowly, he smiles. It's careful and hesitant but it's sweet. It's terrible. Charlotte clenches her jaw and it barely shows at all. 

'Well, how can I say no to that?', he says. He squeezes her hand. 'Yes, sure, I'll be there.' 

Someone else enters to get a cup of coffee, and their conversation is over. 

Charlotte finds herself staring into the mirror that evening before Ted comes. 

Ted isn't wrong. She does look a little 'under the weather', though she wouldn't exactly call it that. 

She looks sick, and that's the only word for it. She's pale and thin and there are deep bags under her eyes. 

Maybe it's no wonder that Ted worries. Or well, he doesn't worry. He just notices. 

A couple months ago, Charlotte thought maybe that would be enough; for Ted to simply notice. Now she knows that it isn't. 

She thinks about putting on some make-up but doesn't. She simply stares at herself in the mirror until Ted rings the doorbell. 

'Hey,' Ted says. It's cold outside so his cheeks and his nose are red. It looks very endearing. 

'You should really get a pair of gloves,' Charlotte says. She takes the bag Ted is carrying. Ted grins. 'I have gloves, somewhere. I think they're in my car or something.' 

Charlotte tries to frown but the urge to smile is stronger. 'Come on then, and warm up.' 

'Thanks,' Ted says. 

'What's in here?', Charlotte asks. She holds up the bag Ted brought. 'Oh, not much,' he says but he's looking at the buttons of his jacket instead of her. 'Just some stuff to make sure we don't have to leave the house too much this weekend.' 

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. Her smile is way too wide but she can't control it. And it doesn't even hurt that much, so she tries to savour it. 

'How much of this weekend did you plan for?' 

'Huh?', Ted looks up. He shrugs. 'None of it. I'm just planning ahead of my own laziness. You know, as you do.' 

'I see.' Charlotte opens the bag and has a look inside. What she sees is mainly snacks, and a couple of DVDs. 

'Looks like fun,' Charlotte says. What she means is  _ thank you for being so thoughtful _ but she is scared saying it might trigger another flower incident. 

'Yeah, whatever,' Ted says, which Charlotte likes to think means  _ you're welcome _ . 

They spend a quiet friday night. Ted maneuvers Charlotte onto the couch and puts on the lord of the rings. Charlotte tries her best to pay attention to the movie but it's a little hard with Ted this close next to her. She tries to focus on his warmth instead of the pain that comes along with it. It's not exactly easy either.

It gets a lot worse when Ted falls asleep in the middle of the second movie. His head is on Charlotte's shoulder and he's snoring in that way Charlotte is so fond of. 

She knows that this is a bad idea but she puts her arm around Ted anyway. She pulls him closer, closes her eyes, and listens to his breathing. 

It's going easy and steady. Much different from her own. 

'This isn't fair,' she whispers into the room. Ted doesn't wake up. 'I don't want to go.' 

She brushes a strand of hair out of Ted's face. His expression is so serene you could think he's a whole different person. But Charlotte doesn't. She likes to think she knows Ted, knows all the different sides of him. 

She loves all of them the same. 

Charlotte swallows tears and blood and moves closer to Ted. She closes her eyes, and somehow, after a while, she falls asleep. 

The next day Charlotte makes breakfast for them, so Ted insists on making dinner. Charlotte pretends it doesn't mean anything to her. She does a terrible job of it. 

Charlotte finds herself conflicted this weekend. She knows it's a foolish idea to put her life into Ted's hands. It wouldn't be fair to him and it's not a good gamble. She's better off doing exactly what she has been doing the past few months and letting it end when the time comes. 

But what is fair about giving her something like this, something to treasure, and then taking it away? If Charlotte feels alone and lost sleeping next to her own husband, shouldn't she be allowed to keep the company of the one person that makes her feel held, and understood, and alive? 

She doesn't want to leave Ted. But one way or another, she's going to have to. And it makes her feel a kind of bitterness that terrifies her. 

'Hey, are you even listening to me?' 

Charlotte looks up. Ted is looking at her with one raised eyebrow. 

'I'm so sorry, Ted, what were you saying?' 

Ted sighs and shakes his head. 'Look, I get it,' he says. 'You don't want to tell me what's going on with you.' 

Charlotte frowns. 'Ted, that's-' 

'It's okay, come on. Don't look at me like that.' Ted puts a hand on Charlotte's arm. It hurts. She barely notices. She's just staring at him. 

'You don't have to tell me, okay? But you need to talk to someone. And I get that you don't want me to, but I want to help you. If there's anything I can do, you gotta tell me.' 

Charlotte wants to smile, but she's in way too much pain. She shakes off Ted's hand very gently but his face falls anyway. 

'I'm sorry,' Charlotte says, or at least she tries to. There's something blocking her throat. 

Panic shoots up in Charlotte. She turns away and covers her mouth. It's no use. The coughs come without mercy, and they shake her entire body and then Charlotte is gagging and she feels Ted's hand on her back and then she loses control and suddenly the floor is covered in flowers. 

Once it's over, the silence in the room is suffocating. 

Charlotte takes one deep breath. She wipes the blood on her lips away with the back or her hand. She stands upright. 

She says, 'Fuck.' 

And she turns around to Ted. And her breathing stops again. 

She was expecting all kinds of expressions on his face. Anger, maybe. Confusion, definitely. But not this.

He looks terrified. He's  _ trembling  _ and for a second he just stares at Charlotte, his entire body frozen. 

'Ted?', she says, and he jumps. 

'Holy shit,' Ted says. He takes a step towards Charlotte and puts his shaking hands on her shoulders. Charlotte flinches; she can't fight it. 

The look on Ted's face grows even more terrified. 

'Fuck, sorry, I-' He takes a step back. Charlotte misses his touch immediately. She wraps her own arms around herself. 

'I'm sorry, Ted,' she says calmly. 'You didn't have to see this.' 

Ted's eyes darken. 'Yeah, I'm sure you're really keen on hiding it.' 

Charlotte frowns. 'What are you-'

'How long has this been going on, Charlotte?' 

He's angry. It's almost a relief. Ted's anger is much easier to deal with than his terror. 

Charlotte shrugs. She decides not to lie. What's the use? Things can't get any worse than they are right now. 'A few months. I don't know exactly.' 

'And he didn't notice? God, what a piece of shit.' 

Charlotte frowns at him for a moment before she understands who he's talking about. 

'Oh, Ted, please-' 

'Where is he?', Ted asks, 'I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna fucking kill him.' 

He actually turns around and walks towards the apartment door. 'Ted, wait.' Charlotte grabs his wrist and holds him back. It hurts like hell but Charlotte doesn't let go. 

'Please,' she says, 'don't be irrational.' 

She's not crying, which is a surprise. She had imagined to lose her composure as soon as the truth would come out. Instead she feels collected and in control. She almost wants to laugh, especially when Ted says, 'Irrational? Fuck, Charlotte, you're sick. You're going to die. Because of him. Because this piece of  _ shit _ won't even look at you.' 

Oh, he's such a fool. But can she blame him? She had thought the same thing for the longest time. 

'Ted-'

'You know, don't you?' Ted is staring at her like she's already dead. She can see sadness behind his anger, grief even. 'You know what this means?' 

Charlotte smiles in a very insincere way. She nods. 

Ted sighs. He drags a hand across his face and just looks very tired all of a sudden. 'You know,' he says. 'And you didn't tell me.' 

Charlotte thinks about telling him, that Sam has nothing to do with this. That it's someone else.

'I'm sorry,' Charlotte says instead because she is. It's not fair, that he has to know this. That he has no choice but to watch her die. 

'Fuck no,' Ted says. Then, a little louder, 'Fuck no, Charlotte, don't you dare apologise for this. Do you hear me? Don't take the blame for this, this is his fucking-' He shuts up. He was yelling. Now he just looks small and defeated. His anger has evaporated. He shakes his head. 'I'm sorry.' 

'You should go,' Charlotte says quietly. The pain in Ted's eyes is almost impossible to look at. 'Charlotte-' 

'It's okay,' Charlotte says. She takes a deep breath. 'I'm not angry with you. Everything is alright. But you should go.' 

'I'm not gonna leave you alone like th-' 

'Please.' Ted stares at her. She looks back. She tries to look strong and sure but she knows it doesn't work. 

Still, for Ted, it's enough.

'Okay.' She can barely hear him. He nods and says, 'okay' again. 

'You don't have to worry about me, Ted.' 

He doesn't say anything. Charlotte, still holding his wrist, walks him to the door. 

'I'm really sorry,' Charlotte says. 'I ruined the weekend.' She smiles but Ted doesn't smile back. He just shakes his head, and when Charlotte opens his arms for a hug he nearly throws himself into them. 

The touch hurts. Charlotte still doesn't let go. Ted holds her like he isn't sure if he's going to have another chance to. His grip around her is so tight Charlotte feels like she's going to suffocate. She does nothing but return the hug. 

'I'm sorry, too.' 

And then Charlotte has closed the door and Ted is gone. She doesn't hear his steps, so she imagines him still standing there, one hand on the door, his eyes closed. Pleading. 

Charlotte leans against the door and slides down to her knees against it. She waits for the tears but there are none. 

Eventually, Ted walks away from the door. 

Charlotte stays where she is. She's filled with regret, though what she regrets she isn't sure. Telling Ted to leave? Letting him find out about this? Not telling him this isn't about Sam? Letting him get this close? Falling in love with him in the first place?

No, that's not it. But the others might be. 

Charlotte's phone buzzes on the kitchen table. It reminds Charlotte of the day she got sick. It had happened the first time when Ted had texted her. She wonders how she could have ever thought that it was Sam. 

She doesn't check her phone; she has an idea who it might be from, and she doesn't want to be proven wrong. She simply keeps sitting there, and hopes against all better judgement that Ted is going to come back.

He doesn't. 

Charlotte doesn't hear from Ted the entire Sunday. He's texted her the night she'd thrown him out but not afterwards. Charlotte tries not to check her phone every couple of minutes but it doesn't exactly work. It's frustrating. 

He does walk up to her desk early on Monday, though. Not many people are in the office yet. Normally, Ted only shows up after 10AM. Right now it's not even 9, and yet there he is, making his way up to her desk with determined eyes.

He also looks really tired. The bags under his eyes nearly match Charlotte's. 

'How are you?', he asks her softly once he's taken Paul's chair and sat down next to her. Charlotte smiles. 'I'm fine.' 

Ted clearly doesn't believe her but Charlotte doesn't care. 'What about you?', she asks, 'you don't look good. Are you alright?' 

'Not really,' Ted says and doesn't elaborate. 

'Listen, Charlotte I've done some digging about this.' 

Charlotte sighs. 'Oh Ted, I wish you hadn't.' She has a feeling this conversation is going to hurt, in all the ways Charlotte has learned the past months. 

'Well, I did, and look,' he leans closer to her. There's a look of relief on his face that Charlotte is going to crush. 'Did you know there's a cure?' 

Charlotte sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. 'The surgery.' 

'You know?' Ted sounds confused for a second, then he collects himself. 'Well, that's great. Then everything is going to be alright. You'll be fine.' 

'Ted,' Charlotte says calmly. She looks at him. She tries to smile. She wishes she had the courage to tell him anything else but, 'No.' 

Ted’s face falls. Charlotte would have thought he’d expected something like this, but instead he looks like Charlotte punched him in the stomach. ‘You- you- what do you mean, no?’

Charlotte shakes her head. ‘I’m not going to get the surgery. I’ve thought about it, and I know everything you’re going to tell me. And look, it’s nice of you to worry,’ she puts a hand on Ted’s wrist and squeezes, ‘but you can’t help me. I’m sorry.’ 

Ted shakes his head. He keeps shaking his head. ‘I don’t get you.’ He sounds harsh and angry but mostly hurt. He pulls his wrist away and gets up from his chair. 

‘I don’t fucking understand you, you know that?’ He covers his eyes and sighs. ‘What more do you need, Charlotte? You’re sick, fucking  _ terminally _ ,’ he hisses the last word like he’s scared someone in the empty office will hear him. ‘You’re in constant pain, don’t think I haven’t noticed, and you’re going to die, and you know why?’ His voice is wavering. Charlotte looks away. ‘Please stop,’ she says but Ted keeps talking. 

‘Because he doesn’t fucking _ love _ you anymore. It’s over.’ 

He laughs. He looks like he’s losing his mind. Charlotte can feel a flower claw its way throw her skin between her ribs. It’s getting harder to breathe. ‘Ted, please.’ 

‘I don’t get it.’ Ted takes a step back. Charlotte wants to get up, keep him here, maybe explain what’s going on. But she can barely move. It hurts too much. 

‘You could- you could move on with someone- with anyone,  _ anybody  _ would be better. You could be happy. You could actually be happy.’ 

He doesn’t look angry anymore. He just looks small. 

‘But you don’t want to. You would rather die than to leave this asshole. And I just-’, he shakes his head again. ‘I just don’t get it.’ He turns around and then he’s gone. 

Charlotte holds on to the edge of her desk and breathes very steadily. 

It takes her twenty minutes before she manages to stand up from her desk. 

When she comes home late in the evening, Sam is actually there for once. He’s sitting on the couch and barely looking at her. Charlotte says hello, and it doesn’t feel like she’s speaking to her husband. 

Charlotte spends the rest of the day in the kitchen and Sam doesn’t look at her or speak to her and Charlotte doesn’t feel like there’s anything she missing. 

Except when she checks her phone, and Ted doesn’t text her. Not even once. 

Sam is still there in the morning, and Charlotte is actually confused to see him. It's like she's forgotten that he lives here. And then things make a little more sense, finally.

Later, many people will call her brave. She doesn't consider herself that, not back when she was sick and suffering all alone and not now, when she walks up to her husband and says, 'I think we should get a divorce.' 

Sam looks at her like he just noticed she's there. 

'What did you say?' Charlotte sits down next to him. 

'You heard me. We shouldn't stay together if all we have is this.' She smiles. She's surprised by how easy it is to say this. 'We're not happy, are we? You're barely looking at me.' 

Sam isn't angry. He's also not sad and he doesn't look heartbroken. He just looks inconvenienced. 

'Charlotte-' 

'I mean it.' Charlotte gets back up. 'I've made my decision. I'm sure you'll agree with me once you've had time to think about it.' Charlotte is not scared at all. She looks at Sam like he's a good acquaintance. 

Sam is looking back. It's almost funny; this is the longest conversation they've had in months. 

Charlotte walks out of the room to get her jacket. Sam doesn't follow her. 

'Where are you going?', he asks when she comes back inside. 

'I'm visiting a friend,' Charlotte says. She sounds so formal, like she's speaking to someone at work. She finds that she doesn't mind at all. 'We'll talk more when I get back. Unless you're planning to go out.' 

Sam doesn't say anything else before Charlotte is gone. 

She closes the door behind her. When she takes a deep breath, it almost feels better. 

Charlotte leaves her apartment behind, and goes home. 

She isn't sure what's next. She doesn't think she should tell Ted the truth. But she doesn't want to die either, not with him thinking that it was Sam who had made her sick.

She rings the bell. 

Ted looks very tired when he opens, and also really confused. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Can I come in?’, Charlotte asks instead of answering. Ted frowns at her for a second, then he nods. ‘I guess.’ 

Ted barely looks at her. Charlotte doesn’t reach out. 

‘You don’t look good,’ she says carefully. Ted snorts. ‘Yeah, I could say the same. You wanna sit down?’ 

Charlotte does, but Ted keeps standing. ‘Why are you here?’, he asks again. 

'I told Sam that I want a divorce.'

Saying it hurts a lot more than she expected it to. Although maybe that's just the way Ted is looking at her. 

'Woah, wait, you did what?' Ted finally sits down. 

'I told him I want-'

'A divorce? Charlotte, what the fuck? Don't you know what this will do to you?' 

'It won't do anything to me, sweetheart.' Ted just looks at her like she's going insane. But it feels better than him looking at her like she's a walking corpse. 

'What are you-' Ted interrupts himself. It looks like there's an expression on his face he's not sure he should show. He looks hopeful, in a desperate way. 'Did you get the surgery?' 

Charlotte smiles. It hurts very much but she can't help it. Ted is just so endearing. She takes his hand, and even though her time is running out she peaks with all the patience in the world. 'I don’t need to get the surgery.' 

'What- what does that mean?' 

'I don’t need to get the surgery because I don't love Sam. I haven’t loved him for a really, really long time.’ 

‘I don’t understand.’

Charlotte chuckles. ‘I didn’t understand it either as first. I really thought it was Sam.’ She looks down on their hands, and runs a finger over Ted’s. ‘But it wasn’t.’ 

‘Well, who the fuck was it, then?’

Charlotte looks at Ted. There’s something like understanding on his face, but apparently his brain hasn’t caught up yet. 

Or maybe it has, and just doesn’t want to believe it. 

‘Are you gonna tell me or not?’, Ted says, and now Charlotte laughs sincerely. ‘Ted, isn’t it obvious? It’s you.’ 

Charlotte knows how this illness works. She knows that this is her only chance to maybe survive. She also knows that with this, she’s putting her life into Ted’s hands. 

But Charlotte has been preparing to die for so long now. And putting her faith into Ted feels much better than the thought of putting it in Sam. 

Ted doesn’t say anything for a moment. He just stares at Charlotte. Then he blinks once. And then a couple times more. 

Then, he presumably tries to say something a few times. He’s struggeling to get the words out. His eyes look like they’re going to pop out of their sockets. 

It’s adorable. 

Ted finally catches himself and says, ‘You- what? Are you kidding? This whole time you’ve-’

He shuts up and looks away. Then, he says, ‘Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?’

‘I don’t know,’ Charlotte says. ‘I didn’t really understand what was happening for the longest time. And then I thought it was about Sam. I was silly.’ She takes a deep breath, the next few words are difficult to get out. ‘I was afraid.’ 

'You didn't think I would-' Ted's face falls a little. He shakes his head.

'I didn't want to put you into that position,' Charlotte explains. Ted drags his hand down his face and says, 'Fuck.' 

'Ted, I-' 

'I'm sorry,' Ted says. 'I'm sorry you- you've been going through this for so long, and you've been alone with this the whole time, and I didn't even consider-' He shakes his head again. He says, 'Fuck', again. 

And then he throws his arms around Charlotte. 

'I'm sorry,' Ted says again. He buries his face in the crook of her neck. 'I think I really did a bad job with this.' 

'Come on, Ted,' Charlotte says softly. 'I could have simply told you. You didn't do anything wrong.' 

'You could have died,' Ted mutters. 'Fuck, you could have died and I just could have- God, I'm a fucking idiot.' 

Charlotte chuckles. 'I'm the bigger idiot.' 

Ted pulls back from the hug and puts his hands on Charlotte's face. 'How are you feeling?', he asks. 

Ted hasn't exactly said anything about his feelings for Charlotte. She knows that that's what cures the illness. But she smiles at him, and it's very easy. 

Ted hasn't said, 'I love you,' or, 'I want to be with you,' or something similar. He hasn't even kissed her. 

But Charlotte knows anyway. And maybe Ted will say it one day. But right now, this is completely enough. 

So she smiles at him and she says, 'Light.' She puts a hand on Ted's, pulls it closer and presses a tiny kiss to his palm. His expression melts into something ridiculously soft. Charlotte feels and ache in her chest that has nothing to do with her illness as she realises that she'd do anything to keep this expression on his face. 

'I've never felt lighter.' 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!


End file.
